


Summer Discipline

by cassiopeianCatastrophe



Category: Glee
Genre: Aftercare, Canon Compliant, Domestic Discipline, Explicit Consent, F/F, Hair-pulling, Hairbrush Spanking, Multiple Orgasms, Oh also, Oral Sex, Punishment, Spanking, and like 500 words of sex, bath brush spanking, belt spanking, diaper position spanking, dom!Brittany, face slapping (mild), guess who discovered a new kink while writing this fic, moderate? spanking, more severe than most of the stuff I've seen on here, mouth soaping, no penetration (for the sex), no penetration for the spanking either, post-cannon, right so if you're reading this for the sex, so i guess, sub!Santana, there's a lot of love here, there's like 2k on the spanking, this isn't the fic for you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 10:22:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23969812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassiopeianCatastrophe/pseuds/cassiopeianCatastrophe
Summary: Santana fucks up at work, Brit is there to help her sort it out.
Relationships: Santana Lopez/Brittany S. Pierce
Comments: 1
Kudos: 51





	Summer Discipline

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Santana Gets a Spanking](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18688579) by [GettingThere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GettingThere/pseuds/GettingThere). 



> Okay so this is my first fic on this website, and it's un-beta'd - if anyone would be willing to beta for me in future then feel free to message me @crackedfacades on Tumblr, or comment at the bottom and we can talk - I'd be more than happy to beta in exchange - I'm not fussy about fandoms.

Brittany walked home in the late evening, relishing the warm Californian air in the summer. She and Santana had lived there for just over two years, after a tenured position opened up at Caltech for Brittany. The move had come at a perfect time for Santana, who had just graduated NYU and was keen to become a publicist. She was now working at a prestigious firm in LA, and loving it.

Brittany was enjoying her job too — after leaving the tedium of MIT, she’d had the chance to find a subject that she actually liked, something that used enough math to allow it to come easily to her, and enough beauty to maintain her interest. Astrophysics also gave the benefit of allowing her to spend most of her time outside. On this particular evening, she was coming home a little later than usual, after a class with some freshmen which had to be held in the evening so that they could get a good look at the stars they were studying. People often took her class thinking it would be an easy A, but, quickly realising that the course had a fair amount of physics, most would drop it within the first few weeks. Regardless, she thought that a few of tonight’s students showed promise, and she’d definitely seen wonder on some of their faces, so it had definitely been a good evening.

Unlocking the door, something immediately seemed off. The lights were on, meaning Santana was home, but the house was silent. Usually, on nights where Brittany had a late class, Santana would be in the kitchen cooking when she came home, singing to the wooden spoon and dancing all around the kitchen. Tonight there was none of that, though Brittany could smell some kind of food — perhaps Santana had needed to do some extra work from home? She went to look for her wife in the study, but didn’t need to go that far. She found her in the corner of their living room, holding the back of her skirt up, with her underwear at her knees.

Brittany cocked her head in confusion. Sure, this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence: they used spanking for behaviour modification after all (as well as in the bedroom, but that didn’t involve corner-time so this definitely wasn’t that). But this wasn’t usually how these things started — and Brittany couldn’t for the life of her think of anything Santana had done recently that might have warranted this. She walked up behind her wife, and enveloped her in a hug.

“Hey” Brittany said, softly   
“Hi” Santana responded, her voice sounding small, and a little tremble-y. Brittany turned her around to look at her. Santana’s eyes were red rimmed, and she was worrying her lower lip, the way she did whenever she knew she had done something wrong.   
“What’s wrong, Sanny?” Brittany was somewhat alarmed to see Santana’s eyes fill up with tears, and she led her wife over to the couch (Santana hobbling a little because of her underwear).   
  
Brittany pulled her onto her lap, wrapping her arms around her wife, and looking at her with no small amount of concern. The object of her gaze gulped, blinked and seemed to steel herself.   
“I yelled at someone today” Santana admitted, softly. This was something they had ‘discussed’ before.   
“Did they deserve it?” It was something that was important to Brittany — there was nothing wrong with Santana asserting herself, in the right way, at any rate.   
“Well, my boss was being a sexist pig — he called me and Rob in and congratulated Rob for closing Mr Fields, even though Rob’s barely even spoken to the man, it was me who went to lunch with him, and organised for that press event to get him to sign us.” Santana’s irritation was clearly rising again, even just recounting the meeting.   
“Well, it sounds like he deserved it, Sanny…” Brittany said, somewhat hesitantly. She knew Santana could go too far sometimes when she was heated, and it was obviously risky to start yelling at your boss…   
“I didn’t yell at him. I didn’t even tell him he was wrong that much” Brittany immediately relaxed, her hand automatically rubbing Santana’s back in silent praise, but Santana wasn’t done. “I did shout at Maria though…” Santana said, her irritation changing to something a lot more like guilt. Brittany stiffened. Maria was a student at Caltech — one of Brit’s students, who had been keen to do a work placement with a publicist. Brittany had organised the placement with Santana, and had specifically asked her wife to look after the girl. Maria was shy at the best of times, and Brit had a feeling that she came from a home that was none too happy — she reminded her of Quinn, in a lot of ways. “It was really bad Brit, and I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to, I just… I was just annoyed about the meeting and I kind of snapped and-“   
“How bad was it?” Brit asked, interrupting her. Santana looked as if she’d been caught in the headlights, and Brittany knew she was trying to decide whether to leave something out. Brittany squeezed Santana’s ass in warning. Santana bowed her head.   
“She… quit” Santana admitted. Brittany felt a hot flush of anger in her neck. She took a deep breath.   
“Get back in the corner.” She said, needing some time to collect herself. Santana jumped up   
“Yes, ma’am” she said, already scuttling along as best she could.   
  
Once in the corner, Santana could hear Brit moving around behind her. She thought back to the look of disappointment and anger on her wife’s face when she had told her, and felt tears prick the back of her eyes again. She really hadn’t meant to go off on the girl — she was actually quite competent, and Brit had explained why she thought that Maria might need a slightly gentler touch, which Santana had been happy to provide. Except today, of course. Crap, she really wanted to turn around, and apologise to Brittany, but she knew doing so would only further irritate her wife. She shifted slightly at a cool breeze on her still bare ass. She had taken up the same position as she was in when Brittany had returned home, knowing it was what was expected of her. Brit also knew that she hated it — hated corner time in general actually (God, it was so _boring_ and all there was to do was to listen to your own thoughts). But on the only time she had complained, she had simply been met with something between a small smile and a smirk, and asked whether she thought punishment was supposed to be something she enjoyed. That had shut her up, then and since, and she supposed she really deserved it now. She also knew it gave them both time to calm down and get into the right headspace, but Santana really did not like waiting. She shuffled her feet impatiently, and was met with a sharp smack to her ass. She jumped, having missed Brittany’s approach.

“Stand still. And open wide.” She was ordered. Santana cringed, knowing what was coming next. Regardless, she complied, and her mouth was soon filled with a bar of soap, pushed as far into her mouth as it would go. Brittany peered round, working the bar back and forth until Santana’s mouth was thoroughly coated in soap. “You can tap out at any time” Brit reminded her, her voice low and comforting. Santana nodded an ‘I know’ but she didn’t tap out. She felt bad for what she’d done, and maybe, just maybe, this would make her think twice next time. She felt Brit’s hand on her bicep, leading her back over to the couch and Santana did her best not to look at the implements laid out on the foot stool. Brit sat down in front of her and began to unbutton Santana’s blouse. Item by item, she took every piece of clothing off her wife, but with none of the gentle kisses or long glances that would accompany this activity in the bedroom. This was more of a removal of Santana’s defences, leaving her feeling exposed, and a little chilly. When the last of her clothing had been removed, Santana felt a gentle nudge at the back of her knees by Brittany’s foot, and she knelt next to her wife.

Brittany grabbed the bar of soap, which was still in Santana’s mouth, and pumping it back and forth a few final times to get a good lather, removed it from Santana’s mouth. All Santana wanted to do was to spit, but instead she endured the grim taste of lye and closed her mouth. Brit began to speak. “I asked you to be nice to her, I asked you to mentor her, Sanny.” Brit looked so disappointed and hurt that Santana’s stomach twisted horribly. She looked at Brittany’s feet as she said:   
“I know I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… She didn’t even do anything wrong” She felt a firm hand under her chin, guiding her face upwards.   
“That’s not good enough Santana, and look at me when we’re talking.” It was a command, and yet Santana still couldn’t quite make eye contact. Brit’s hand left her face for a second, and then came back with a slap. It wasn’t hard, probably not even enough to leave a red mark, but it was enough for Santana’s eyes to fly up to meet her wife’s. “Look at me when we’re talking” Brit repeated.   
“Yes ma’am”   
“You know what comes next, Santana” “Yes ma’am” “You can say your safe-word at any time, and the punishment ends immediately, though I reserve the right to restart it on another day, okay?”   
“Yes ma’am”   
“Do you remember the conversation we had last time you shouted at someone at work?” Santana did, but she had been hoping Brit wouldn’t she looked down at the floor again.

*slap*

Her eyes snapped up again.   
“Yes ma’am, I do”   
“I said that next time you’d make this time look like a walk in the park… or rather this time I’d make last time-”   
“Yes, ma’am” Santana interrupted, with a quirked smile. Brit’s fingers twitched where they were resting on Santana’s face, and Santana braced herself, but Brit just smiled slightly. She looked at Santana sadly again for a few moments, and Santana had to fight to maintain eye contact.   
“Let’s get this over with, Sanny” Brittany said, sounding tired. Santana felt a fresh wave of guilt. Brit leaned back and patted her lap. Santana knew that she wouldn’t remain over her wife’s knees for long, it wasn’t particularly comfortable for either of them, and it limited Brittany’s swing, but Brit always liked to start her punishments with the two of them touching.

Once she was arranged with her torso over Brittany’s knees and on the couch, and one leg resting loosely on the floor, she felt a cool hand on her ass, gently stroking the unblemished skin. The first few spanks stung, but didn’t hurt too much, and Santana found herself remarking (internally) that even though she was buck naked in the middle of her living room, and felt all kinds of exposed, she felt safe over Brit’s knee.

The warm up probably consisted of only about 20 spanks, leaving Santana’s ass slightly pink, but not even really sore yet. She was surprised that it was over so quickly, having become accustomed to a longer warm up session, but quickly got an answer to her question.   
“Are you okay with me leaving you with some bruising or blistering?” Brit asked softly. Santana knew that if she said no, Brit would continue her warm up spanking and adjust her punishment accordingly.   
“Yes, ma’am, whatever you think” she said, uncharacteristically submissive. “Okay, lie on the corner bit of the couch” Santana got up and started to lie face down on the couch.   
“Not that way up, Sanny” Brittany said, her lips quirking. Santana was confused for a minute before she had an awful moment of realisation.   
“No. You can’t spank me like that, it hurts too much Brit, come on.” Santana pleaded.  
“Are you using your safe-word?” Brit asked, seriously. Santana’s shoulders slumped, knowing what her answer was going to mean.   
“No” She sighed, somewhat sullenly. Before she knew what was happening, Brit was standing up next to her, and giving her ass a much harder smack.   
“Then do you want to try that response again?” She asked.   
“No, ma’am” she rectified   
“Better. Now get into position” Santana acquiesced, lying on her back, and hauling her legs up, and into the dreaded diaper position. She hated how exposed it made her feel, and it pulled her skin tight so that every blow was more painful than it otherwise would have been. On the upside, it tended to mean shorter spankings, but thinking about what she’d done, she wasn’t so sure that was going to be the case this time.   
  
Brit sat down next to her, pushing her shoulder against Santana’s inside knee, and using her arm to hold the other leg in position, effectively leaving Santana’s ass and thighs completely exposed. Brittany pulled a hairbrush off of the footstool next to her.   
“By the time I finish this bit of the spanking, I want you to be able to tell me what you did wrong, and why it was wrong, okay?” She asked, almost gently   
“Yes ma’am” And so the spanking commenced. Brit wasn’t spanking especially hard, but she wasn’t pulling her punches as much as she normally would for a spanking in this position either. The first few blows only stung a little, but there was little respite, with a blow falling every few seconds, so the burn quickly built to discomfort, and then pain. Santana gritted her teeth in response, determined to retain at least a little composure for the minute. As if hearing her thoughts, Brittany switched from spanking Santana’s ass, to spanking her sit spots. Santana let out a small yelp at the sudden change, and went back to gritting her teeth.   
“What did you do wrong, Santana?” She knew better than to think this was the end of this bit of her spanking — there was no way she was going to give a full enough answer on the first try, Brit always thought of things that she hadn’t even considered, but she gave it her best shot anyway. Brit continued spanking as Santana answered.   
“I yelled at someone I wasn’t even mad at, just because I was frustrated”   
“That’s a start, but who exactly did you yell at?” The spanking was becoming increasingly sore, and Santana winced as she answered.   
“I… Maria?” She hazarded, knowing that it wasn’t the answer Brit was looking for. Brittany grunted and continued spanking in silence.   
  
The sound of the spanking filled the room, as Brittany ran the brush from Santana’s ass to a point about a hands-width from her knee, completing her left side before starting fresh on her right. She was actually tempering her strokes the further she got down Santana’s thighs, knowing the muscle would feel each blow much more keenly, but Santana barely felt the benefit, tears pricking her eyes again, which she blinked back aggressively. Her ass was already blushing firmly, a deep pink.   
“You yelled at someone you had power over, someone you know is especially vulnerable, for no reason. You abused that power, to the extent that she quit.” Brit finally supplied, her voice flat and hard. This time, Santana’s wince was not from the sting of the hairbrush. Brit started at the bottom of Santana’s left thigh, and worked up to her ass. She could feel her wife squirming beneath her. She repeated the process on the right, and felt Santana finally let out a proper breath, relaxing into the punishment rather than fighting it.   
  
The spanking paused abruptly.   
“So let’s recap, what did you do wrong, Santana?”   
“I shouted at someone who looked up to me and couldn’t fight back because I knew I could yell at her and not face any consequences because the person I was really mad at is my boss and if I yell at him I might get fired.” Santana said, all in one breath, a first tear rolling out of the side of her eye. Brittany switched arms holding her legs, and wiped it away with the pad of her thumb. “Good, well done Sanny” She said, softly. Santana felt a slight glow of pride at the praise, which was mostly dwarfed by her realisation of exactly how unfair what she’d done was.   
  
She wasn’t given much time to ponder it though, because Brittany was already back in position, rubbing the back of the hairbrush on Santana’s ass.   
“Now, this time, by the end of this part I want you to tell me what you’re going to do to fix what you did, okay?”   
“Yes ma’am” Santana replied. Santana noticed the change with the first spank. Brit was now putting significantly more force into each blow, and reducing the tempo to a spank every 4 seconds or so. Instinctively, Santana put her left hand out, to try and protect her ass. The spanks stopped instantly, and her hand was grabbed roughly.   
“If you do that again, I’m going to spank you with the bath brush, do you understand me?” Santana felt a thrill of fear and grabbed her hand back when it was released.   
“Yes ma’am” she answered quickly. She hated the damn bath brush. The spanking continued with the hairbrush, the burn quickly becoming almost unbearable again, and causing Santana to cry out. Her eyes were soon thick with tears, but the spanks kept coming, covering her ass, then her sit spots, then her upper thighs, then her lower thighs. She did her best to shift upwards, to escape the punishment, but Brit simply shifted more of her weight onto her.   
  
It was during a particularly painful set of four strokes to her left sit spot that Santana made the mistake of trying to protect herself again. Brit dropped the hairbrush, grabbed Santana’s left hand and placed it securely in Brit’s own left hand, all before Santana had time to really realise what she’d done. She protested and begged, but there was no use. Brit grabbed the long handled bath brush and quickly delivered 6 swats to her sit spots. Santana began to sob in earnest. Each swat sounded like a thunder clap, and burned with a much deeper pain than the hairbrush. It was over as quickly as it began, but even when Brittany released her tight grip on Santana’s hand, Santana clung on. Smiling slightly, even though her wife couldn’t see it through her tears, Brit closed her hand gently around her wife’s. She felt a squeeze.   
“How are we doing?” She asked. In all honesty, she knew if Santana safe-worded now, she’d call the spanking finished and be done with it.   
“No safe-word” Santana said through her tears, giving her the green light to continue.   
“You sure?”   
“Yeah” Santana gave a watery smile and squeezed Brittany’s hand. These conversations were always free from the obligation to call her ma’am.   
  
Brittany picked up the hairbrush and continued. Santana’s ass and thighs were now a deep red, and the fire in her ass had Santana bucking slightly beneath Brit and crying out from the first stroke. Her bucking quickly diminished though, with every pass of her ass, sit-spots and thighs, as Santana tired out, and soon Brittany was barely holding her legs back at all, Santana’s cries changed to soft continuous sobbing and Brit stopped spanking again.   
“How are you going to fix this, Sanny?” She asked. Santana took a moment to compose herself enough to answer.   
“I.. I’ll go talk to her, tomorrow” she offered, haltingly. Brit rubbed her wife’s ass gently in encouragement “I’ll say sorry and ask her to come back, promise her it won’t happen again, or offer her a r-reference to work with someone else”   
“Mhmm, and how are you going to deal with the situation with your boss?”   
“Huh?” Santana answered, clearly confused   
“How are you going to let him know that it was you who bought in the client?”   
“Oh… my name’s on the contract, and I’ll get all the billable hours, so I suppose he’ll work it out eventually”   
“Okay!” Brittany said, brightly. “One last bit of the punishment Sanny, you up for it?” Tears leaked out of Santana’s eyes at the thought, but she nodded. Brit tapped her ass lightly “Is that how you answer?”   
“No ma’am, I mean yes ma’am” Santana corrected, hurriedly.   
“I’m going to let you up, and you’re going to walk around and bend over the back of the couch until your head is on the cushions, okay?” With a quiet ‘yes ma’am’ Brit moved her shoulder and got up, lowering Santana’s legs. She hissed as her bruised skin came into contact with the couch, and cried out as she had to put her weight on it to get up. She walked awkwardly around the couch trying not to aggravate her ass any more than necessary, and got into position, as instructed. Brit leant down and kissed the back of Santana’s head, grabbed the belt, and walked around to the other side of the couch. “This bit’s going to hurt, and you won’t be able to think about much of anything, but I want you to just focus on the pain, okay? This is the bit I want you to remember next time you have the opportunity to do what you did today”   
“Yes ma’am” Santana said, already crying in anticipation of what was to come. She grabbed a throw pillow, hugged it, and buried her face in it.   
“Nuh-uh. You can hold the pillow Sanny, but you can’t cover your face — what if you need to use your safe-word?” Santana complied, moving her arms towards the front of the couch and bracing her forehead on the seat, behind the pillow.   
  
Santana could feel the air gap as Brittany raised the belt. It cracked down, and as usual, it surprised Santana how long it took for her body to catch up. All too quickly though, it did, and a shockwave of pain ran through her body. She tried to raise her body on her toes, but the couch was just that little bit too tall for her to reach the floor in this position (and not by accident), so all she succeeded in doing was flexing her toes. She also succeeded in crying out, loudly, her sobs once again racking her body. True to her word, Brit did not give her a lot of time to process between blows, and landed the next one just below the first. By the fourth stroke, Santana could feel the individual strokes, but she sobbed consistently hard between them. She didn’t fight or try to get up, she just lay there, absorbing the searing pain.   
  
When Brit reached the end of her her upper thighs, she stopped, tossing the belt over the couch, signalling the end of the punishment, but it took Santana a while to actually process that the punishment was over. When she did, Brit’s hand was on her back rubbing soothing circles, ready to help her up, and promising it was all over and that she was forgiven. When her cried had subsided to hiccuping sobs, Brit walked around the couch and sat down with her legs either side of Santana’s head and arms. She hooked her wife’s arms around her, and pulling on her torso, pulled Santana off the couch and on top of her.   
  
Awkwardly, she reached back and pulled the couch cushion down so that she could rest her head on it, and grabbed the juice box and a Twix - the final two items on the footstool. Santana scooted up her body wrapping her arms around her wife and resting her head on her wife’s chest. Brit handed her the opened juice box and Santana began to drink. A few minutes later, Santana was feeling a little stronger, and pressed a kiss to her wife’s collarbone.   
“You okay Sanny?”   
“Yeah, I’m good” Santana replied. “Are you?”   
“I’m good — you did so good Sanny, I’m so proud of you” Santana crawled up the rest of the way to push a firm kiss to Brit’s mouth. She tried to deepen it but Brit pulled away. “Twix first” Santana pulled a face and Brit’s hand hovered over Santana’s ass, close enough for the threat to be felt. Santana felt a jolt of electricity going straight from her ass to her clit, which began to throb, but sighed, resting her head on Brittany’s shoulder.   
“Twix first” she agreed. Brit’s hand immediately found the small of Santana’s back where it rubbed comforting circles.  
  
15 minutes later, Santana was kissing her way down Brit’s neck, removing her dress as she got to it. All the while she left a hand resting lightly on her wife’s panties, rubbing light circles that did nothing to relieve any kind of pressure. Brit’s hands found her hair, and fingers wrapped around it roughly, pushing her towards her eventual goal. Santana resisted a little, teasing her wife for just a little longer, but eventually conceded. She slid underwear over Brit’s slim hips, not failing to notice just how soaked they were. She quirked a smile and looked up and Brit in amusement, only to get a low growl in response. Brit used her toes to pull her underwear the rest of the way off, and Santana placed herself between her wife’s knees, her back arched, forcing her bruised ass high in the air.   
  
She ate her out the way she did everything — with predatory focus and abundant enthusiasm. She started with wide circles with her tongue. A tug of her hair told her that she wasn’t providing enough stimulation, so Santana complied, making the circles increasingly small until she was almost directly on Brit’s clit with the flat of her tongue. She heard a groan from above her and felt her face being pushed into Brit’s cunt. She increased the speed of her tongue and felt Brit’s stomach muscles tighten in response. Never stopping her tongue, she clasped her lips around Brittney’s clit and massaged it gently from the base, and began to suck, ever so gently. It took mere seconds to pull Brit over the edge and into a rushing orgasm, but Santana wasn’t finished. She released her lips while her wife came, but almost as soon as she was finished she did the same thing again, massaging Brit’s ass all the while, and brought her wife crashing into another orgasm.   
  
When Brit was finished, Santana felt another tug on her hair, and allowed herself be pulled up and into a deep kiss. Brit’s hands wandered down Santana’s body, but Santana caught them on her stomach. “No orgasms after a punishment, remember? Otherwise I might forget it was a punishment” She reminded her wife. It was Santana’s own rule, and Brit thought it was a little stupid, but respected it nonetheless. In all truth, Santana knew the bruises wouldn’t let her forget that this was a punishment, but on nights like this she was more than happy to just serve.

**Author's Note:**

> Concrit welcome - hope you're all staying safe


End file.
